MORNINGS

This was written September 2 

I waken before the alarm, just long enough to disconnect the machine which keeps me breathing evenly through the night,

but which also causes interference in the radio reception.  I don't want to hear the static interrupting the morning broadcast.

This is where I hear the weather report for the day.  I stretch, turn over and anticipate the line up of daily activities, including my morning walk.

I'm reluctant to get out of bed but if I don't do the walk in the morning, it will not happen.

I wash my face to wake me, dress quickly in my most comfortable "walking'"clothes, and head out the door.

There is a chill in the air, the thermometer says 12degrees,  not really cold but I put on my big red shirt, partly to keep my arms

from being chilly, but also to be visible to anyone who may be taking practice shots in anticipation of hunting season, opening soon.

I know that I will be too warm before I return home, but I can always tie my shirt around my waist if that occurs.

On yesterday's walk, I did hear distant gunshots, although they could have been, I was later told, coming from the nearby gun club's shooting range.

It is 8:02 on my phone, which I tuck into my pocket, retrieve my two canes from the trunk of my car, put on my walking shoes, an old pair of sandals

which have almost had their day, but which are comfortable and withstand the gravel portions of the road I use, and head down my driveway.

There are indentations in the long grass indicating that perhaps the local deer have slept there all night, feeling safely protected up against the scraggly

bushes pretending to be my hedge.  Further evidence that the neighbours cats have visited my yard, left their calling card, and hopefully reduced the

population of mice a little more.

I look at my walnut tree, recently stripped of all it's harvest by the wretched squirrels a few days ago.  I wasn't even aware that the nuts were even close to

ripe.  Perhaps the squirrels know something about the oncoming winter that we don't, even though the farmer's almanac seems to know the same.

It is quiet and so peaceful and fresh at this time of the morning.  I reach the end of my driveway and meet my neighbour who is off to the gym, which has

implemented a day-care service for young mothers with babies.  Her baby is now nine months old.  How fortunate we are to have such services available.

I pause, deciding whether to take my usual route, up the hill behind me or down the hill toward the main road.  I can't decide if it's better to start with a hill and

finish with a cool down, or finish with the hill coming back home.  I choose the latter and continue on down the road.  I have a goal in sight,  and reach it in

fifteen minutes.  I stop to admire the beautiful morning sky with varying shades of grey clouds, and the sun trying to break through creating

a very dramatic scene over the corn field, which is in full bloom, the fragrance wafting in the fresh air.   I take a few pictures with my little phone's camera,

unable to see clearly exactly what is in the viewfinder as I am facing the bright light.

Several vehicles have passed me, people on their way to start their day's work while I am unconstrained by that necessity.  I turn and start my walk back home,

the hill in front of me as my final challenge.  The smells in the air change from the perfume of the corn, to the odour of the horses on the adjacent properties.

I see that one of my neighbours now has several miniature horses, another addition to the area, with llamas on another property.

I notice the odd beer can in the ditch, hoping that it is not from anyone living in this area, at the same time wondering who, nearby, has been so disrespectful of

their surroundings that they carelessly throw garbage out the window of their car, because it is certainly not walkers who are doing this.  

I having been walking on the flat but now approach the hill, and I'm nearly home.  I'm puffing, regularly sucking in as much fresh air as I can, trying to remember

 yoga breathing, in through the nose and exhale through the mouth, and am now sweating, wondering why I did put on that shirt.  I stop to pickup a note from a

neighbour, up the driveway and one last circle around and I'm home.  Fourty minutes today, more than usual and I'm happy with that.  I stop at the car, change

my shoes, drop the canes in the trunk and am ready to start the day.

FRUSTRATIONS:

Today was the day my new internet service was to begin.  So far I have made four calls to the provider,  twice been disconnected, presumably at their end, and

twice my land line has gone completely dead,  making it impossible for me to call them again.  Each time I have to go through the wait time, the verification as to

who I am and why I'm calling.  I had decided to make this call before having breakfast, as I've been trying to consume my 32oz of water before eating.  Now, more

than an hour later,  I have still had no satisfaction from the ISP and still haven't eaten.  I'm ready to give up on them.  At the very least I am able to write my notes,

and save them for later transmission.

IT'S ALL ABOUT THE FOOD

That's what I often say when arranging or attending a social function, whether it's for a specific purpose , or simply an impromptu meeting.

Someone always brings food.  There can be cookies, cheese and crackers,  celery and carrot sticks (for the more diet conscious), mixed nuts, dried fruit, fresh fruit (this is the season), yogurt covered snacks, chocolate almonds,  sugar snap peas or it can be a full blown buffet, the likes of which are difficult to describe and almost never have duplicate dishes.

Some of the best foods I've eaten, I've had at pot-luck gatherings, made by Mrs. Average who declaims her prowess and states that it's just "something I've thrown together".  Olive breads, double chocolate, chocolate cake,  asian salad with a dressing to die for,  devilled eggs (which I've never been able to produce with any luck - but are the best from one particular friend), pistachio dessert,  salmon or crab dips, wonderful chai (also the best I've had - from a friend's recipe) and other dishes too numerous to mention.  The list goes on and on.

Every once in a while I like to try something different.  A little deviation from the normal recipe.  One of the last ones I did was my morning smoothie, which my daughter exclaimed sounded gross!  I thought it quite delicious but it's a good thing we all have different preferences and tastes.  It would be a boring world if we all liked the same thing, but I always like to try things.  Unless of course they contain the few foods I dislike, cilantro, green, orange and yellow peppers, steamed cabbage ( I don't mind cole slaw with a decent dressing) and not much else I can think of at the moment.

Roasted veggies are wonderful and a great way to make a large amount from a few items.  Once they are chopped up and mixed together it presents a feast to the eyes as well as the taste buds, as long as it includes onions and garlic.  One can never have too much garlic, another statement  with which aforementioned daughter  would vehemently disagree.  But back to the above smoothie.  It contained four fruits, plus yogurt,  beet crystals, hemp seeds, kale, and the puncher, a whole clove of organic fresh garlic!  I had gone too far, she implied - but I liked it and that was what mattered, as I was the only one who was going to consume it.

Today I was lucky to have been given some fresh veggies including a large bunch of Swiss Chard, so the upcoming experiment is to make Swiss Chard Pesto.  I've made it with carrot tops and shared that recipe with a friend who claimed it to be delicious, so I see no reason why the chard won't work as well.  Given that I am restricted in the amount of greens I've been advised to consume, this is a good way to use what I have, which I can then freeze for future use.

And now, with the day quickly disappearing before my eyes, and the wool fleeces waiting for further processing, I will go back to my experiment(s).

ANNIVERSARIES

Thirty-four years ago last Sunday (May 18) Mt. St. Helen's errupted, the resulting boom (and eventually ash) reached us here on Vancouver Island.

How do I know that it was 34 years ago?  Because it coincided with the day that we moved into our "new" home in the Cowichan Valley.   The boom happened while I was suffering a migraine headache, in bed, with my head covered against the light.  There was a second boom, which actually shook the house (as did the first one) and my initial thought was that the moving truck had been backed
into the roof of the house!  It was only later in the afternoon that we heard about the volcanic eruption.
It's a date I will never forget.

Twenty-one years ago today, my mother died.  She'd been ill for about six weeks, with various diagnoses as to the problem.  It was only one week before she died that the real reason for her pain was discovered.  She spent that week in hospital, not wanting to risk the surgical procedures which may (or not) have fixed the problem.  She was 87 years old and accepted that it was her time.  I still miss her.

Nine years ago on May 25, my first great-grandchild was born.  Since then there have been three more, but the date of the first one marked another stage in my life, from parent, to grandparent to great grandparent.  

HOW TIME FLIES.

Two years ago I told myself I would keep this up to date.  At that time my family left on an extended adventure in Europe and it was to be my way of keeping in touch.  Clearly, that didn't happen.

Now I sit down to write and wonder - where have those two years gone,  along with the rest of the years that I've accumulated in my past and the stories that have been created, lost, remembered, added to the ongoing collection of daily events.

Today it was a walk down the lush greenness of my driveway as I headed out to the road for a 30 minute walk in the sunshine.  The birds were twittering their warning, "someone's coming, someone's coming", to their mates or offspring, or warning against the predatory eagles which pass overhead on a
regular basis.

The pond is empty at the moment, although shaded by overhanging alder trees, thereby protecting any wildlife residing therein, no creature has deigned to take up residence.  I have had an offer of some goldfish, which would be an interesting experiment - seeing if they could survive on their own without me having to feed them.  I also have a friend with an overabundance of ducklings. We've discussed the possibility of putting some of them in the pond to see how they do on their own.  I think they are a few weeks old so may have to wait a little while.